Worst Date Ever
by TheStigsWriterCousin
Summary: Lassiter picks Shawn up after the worst date ever, now he'll have to keep Shawn out of some seriously hot water.
1. Chapter 1

Author's note: I've got no beta so pleeease forgive me for any mistakes or general crappiness! Any feedback or insight is highly appreciated :)

For the fourth night in a row Carlton had woken up sweaty and disoriented from an all too familiar, disturbing dream. He rolled onto his back, wiping the sweat from his forehead, looking at the clock. Noticing that it was too early to wake up on his day off, but knowing that he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep, he decided to lie about for a moment before getting out of bed.

His thoughts drifted to the dream he'd just woken from. The guest star of these dreams wasn't the typical drug lord or mass murderer, but a co-worker. A male co-worker. One that Carlton could hardly stand when he was awake. Apparently when he was asleep, he felt differently.

When he was asleep, his feelings of annoyance and competition were turned into lust and pent-up sexual tension. Instead of wanting to punch him, Carlton found himself wanting to touch him. Everywhere. He wanted to handcuff him for entirely different reasons than in waking life.

Carlton was jolted from his impure thoughts as his phone buzzed on the bedside table. The caller ID read Shawn Spencer's name and he debated not answering. _Speak of the devil..._ He flipped him phone open, reasoning that the only reason that Spencer would be awake so early must be serious, so he should probably answer.

"What is it, Spencer?" He sounded mildly more annoyed than he should have been, considering that he was already awake, but Shawn didn't know that.

"Morning, Lassieface! Listen, I'm calling in that favour you owe me..." Before Shawn could blabber on, Carlton interrupted him.

"I don't owe you any favours, Spencer. What do you want?" He snapped, wanting to be done hearing Shawn's voice as soon as possible. He also didn't want to read too much into the prominent slur he could hear.

"Oh, you will... Anyway, I had a rough night and long story short, I've got very little clothing on, no wallet or keys and I'm not entirely sure where I am. I need a ride."

Carlton pinched the bridge of his nose, not entirely comfortable with the mental image that Shawn's story was bringing up. "And why would you call me, of all people?"

Shawn made a small noise as if to signify that he was thinking. "I was going to think of something witty, but it's just not happening right now. Rain check on that one, buddy. Really, it's probably because you're the first number on my list."

Carlton shrugged to himself, only a little taken aback. "Really?" Sounding more hopeful than he had meant, he mentally slapped himself.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure I was drunk when I put your number in, so it has that little star symbol in front of it. What's that called? An asteroid?"

"It's called an asterisk."

"I've heard it both ways. Anyway, so, are you up for the challenge? If it's not exciting enough for you, we can raise the stakes. I can get rid of the rest of the clothing I do have and we'll see if you can find me before I get abducted by a trucker. Sound good?"

He sighed, knowing that he had nothing better to do at four in the morning, he began getting dressed. "Fine. Where exactly are you?"

He could hear Shawn sigh in relief, as if he thought that Carlton would hang up on him or tell him to walk. "Yeah, about that.. I don't have an address and words are all kind of wooshy right now. It's a few blocks southeast of the place the crazy cat lady lived when we were working the Cooper case a few months ago."

"What? Shawn, that's almost an hour away from my house! What are you doing near the crazy cat lady's anyway? And what do you mean 'wooshy'?" Despite his annoyance at the distance, he didn't slow down in getting ready to leave.

"I was having a few drinks down the street until I got kicked out. I started walking and it was the only area that looked familiar so I just went with it." Carlton could practically hear Shawn shrugging with indifference.

"I'll be at the old gas station down the street in twenty minutes. You remember where it is?"

"Mhmm, I'll wait there."

"No shenanigans?"

"I'd pinky swear you, but I don't think I need to point out the obvious problem we would have with that right now."

When Carlton pulled up to the condemned building, Shawn was nowhere to be found. Drawing his gun and flashlight, he carefully began to walk around the outside of the parking lot. He froze when he heard a rustling from behind the building.

"It's just me, Lassie." Shawn stumbled out from behind the building with his hands in the air in a 'don't shoot me' gesture.

"Jesus, Spencer, what are you doing back there? You almost got shot." Carlton huffed as he put his gun away, but kept his light fixed on Shawn's face.

Shawn blocked the light with his hands and frowned. "Hiding so as not get abducted by truckers. Not that I thought you'd lose the challenge, but really, it didn't seem worth the risk for me."

Ignoring him, Carlton beat him to the car and stared out from the driver's seat as Shawn sloppily made his way into view. With the headlights fully on him, the detective noticed that the psychic wasn't lying about his lack of clothing and belongings. He groaned one last time before Shawn made it inside the car. He was going to regret this, he just knew it.

"Do I even want to ask where your clothes are?" Lassiter regretted the question as soon as it was out of his mouth. He was also already regretting the nice, long look he got of Shawn in nothing but his boxers and a very fitted, white undershirt as he approached the car a moment ago.

Shawn tried to cover his melancholy expression with a sheepish grin, and if it were anyone other than Lassiter, looking any less closely than him, it probably would have passed as genuine drunken silliness. "Let's just say that I thought I was going home with someone single and I was more wrong about that than the time I thought you could actually bake cakes with a light bulb."

Carlton winced and made a sympathetic face, trying equally as hard as Shawn to hide his true expression — Jealously. "Sounds rough. Some guy come home and try to kill you?" _It would serve him right..._

Shawn snickered, amused by the detective's assumption. "More like a really manly woman. Hmm... How do I describe her? Think... Think about the woman in fingerprinting." He rolled his head along the back of the seat, looking lazily over at the driver.

"Actually, that's a man."

"Exactly."

"...Oh."

"Yeah."

After a few moments of awkward silence, Lassiter had a revelation. "Wait, you went home with a woman that has a girlfriend?"

Shawn looked over at the detective again, amused once more by his incorrect assumption. "Nope." He let out an unmanly chuckle and left his answer vague and short, partially to see how long it would take for him to figure it all out and partially because he was worried about telling the truth out loud in front of Lassiter, even drunk and slightly uninhibited.

The detective's brows furrowed for a few minutes, trying to work out in his head how exactly anything Shawn said could possibly make sense. _It only makes sense if he went home with a man...There's no way... Well, I guess it is possible, but... No! Don't get your hopes up, just because you want him to like guys doesn't mean it's going to magically happen. If anything, he's just toying with you._

"Don't hurt yourself trying to think too hard, Lassie. I went home with a man." He fought through the drunken haze to watch Carlton's reaction to his admission. He then groaned to himself, thinking about it too much. "A straight man..."

Shawn wasn't sure if he felt more stupid for admitting to Lassiter that he went home with a guy or that he had admitted it to Lassiter, the straight guy that he's been in love with for over a year. As the gears turned in the detective's head, Shawn closed his eyes. The conversation ahead might be less weird if he just pretended to sleep until they got to his apartment.

"Well, up until getting your ass kicked by a woman, how was your night?" Carlton blurted out awkwardly, not sure what else to say, but having too much going through his mind not to say anything.

"Lassie, I just told you that I went home to have drunken, rambunctious sex with a man and you come back with 'how was your night?'. Really?" Shawn was thrown completely off by the off the wall question.

"Actually, you hadn't mentioned rambunctious sex until just now, but even if you had, that probably would have still been my response. What's wrong with that, anyway?"

"Well, first off, I figured you'd be at least a little weirded out by the fact that I like guys considering how straight-laced you are. Secondly, she didn't kick my ass, she just threw me out and kept all of my stuff..." Shawn pouted at the loss of his favourite pair of shoes and the buy-one-get-one-free coupon for The Pancake Barn that was in his wallet. He and Gus were going there for dinner tomorrow night and now he would actually have to pay.

"Oh, please, Spencer. I've had suspicions about you for a while. I am a detective, you know. I get paid to figure things out." Carlton huffed, insulted that Shawn thought he could get the slip on him, even though he'd had no idea bout Shawn's orientation.

"Riiight, is that why your eyes got all big and wide when I said I went home with a man? You had no clue, admit it!" Shawn teased, glad that the older man hadn't known and was still taking it quite well. He maybe even looked a little happy?

Carlton smiled just barely, a huge sense of relief coming over him, knowing that maybe Spencer wasn't as far out of his reach as he'd thought. "You're right." That was definitely the first time he'd said those words to the psychic without it stinging. "I didn't know, but it doesn't surprise me. You seem like the type that would fall in love with a person for who they are, not what they are. I respect that a lot."

Shawn sat, staring across the car, not knowing what to say. Normally, when Lassiter talked about him, there was a snide tone, underlined with bitterness, even when he was trying to be nice. It made him more than happy knowing that Lassiter secretly respected his character, maybe even admired it a little. "Thanks." He smiled lazily, feeling more drunk by the minute.

Lassiter looked over to the passenger and their eyes met. "You're welcome."

Shawn smiled to himself, closing his eyes again._ We totally just had a moment. Now I'm really getting tired..._

Shawn woke up to a soft tap on the shoulder, signaling that they had arrived home and he was getting kicked out for the second time tonight. Before he knew what was happening, his door was opened and Lassiter was leaning in, tapping him again to wake up and get out.

His arm was slung over the detective's shoulder as he got out, obviously needing the help. It seemed like the nap he took had only made him more drunk and uncoordinated instead of sobering him up. "Wait just a minute, I may be drunk, but I'm pretty sure this isn't my apartment, Lassie." He slurred, leaning his nose into he colleague's neck as he spoke.

Carlton inhaled deeply, trying to concentrate on walking the both of them up his front stairs instead of the hot breath on his neck and the warmth of Shawn's body against his in a way he never thought that he would know. "Ding ding, we have a winner. You don't have your keys, so you're staying at my place tonight. You can get your spare from Guster tomorrow." He opened the front door, tossing his keys on the table just inside.

"Riiiiight, gotcha. You're so smart, Lassie." Shawn smiled, losing all inhibition at the pinnacle of his drunkenness. "And sexy. You're very, very sexy, Lassie." Shawn giggled, grabbing onto him tighter as they swayed.

Carlton stopped dead in his tracks, having propped himself and Shawn against the wall to take their shoes off. "What?" His eyes were wide with confusion and a little bit of hope.

Shawn pushed off of the wall and turned to face Lassiter, still having to be held up partially. "Oh, like you don't know! Always walking around the station in your suit, with your gun, acting all authoritative." He made his point by running his hands along Lassiter's waist, inside his suit jacket. He closed his eyes and leaned his face dangerously close to the head detective's, sliding his hands up the leather holster and onto his chest. "Like you don't know how many people you drive crazy."

Lassiter also closed his eyes, feeling the warm air from the lips so close to his and the pressure of the hand on his chest, as the words coming from the psychic sunk in. Shawn thought he was sexy. Shawn was an inch away from his face.

Shawn moved his body closer, every bit of him touching the older man. He was half too tired to stand on his own and half overwhelmed with the need to be touched, to feel something. Carlton took another sharp breath as their bodies came into full contact. He brought his hand up to Shawn's neck and opened his eyes to find the young psychic staring at him. Looking into those eyes, he felt like he was getting drunk off of Shawn, intoxicated by the feel and smell of him. It was better than any dream he could ever imagine.

The psychic's eyes slid closed again and he leaned in, connecting the only part of them that wasn't already so. Lassiter couldn't keep his eyes open either as he felt the warm, wet touch of Shawn's lips on his. His hand tightened, forbidding the other man from backing away as all of his bottle up passion began to escape into the kiss.

Shawn's hands dug into Carlton's shirt as he felt the others tongue prodding its ways into his mouth, caressing his own. He moaned as the kiss deepened and pressed himself even tighter to the firm body of the man currently making him melt.

Lassiter tried to contain himself as he finally tasted what he had considered to be the forbidden fruit — Shawn. He was brought out of his haze by the strong taste of alcohol still on Shawn's breath, flooding his own senses. Before he could let go any further, he grasped at every ounce of self control he could find and separated himself from the other man.

He moved his other hand to Shawn's chest to support him as they moved apart. "Spencer. Shawn... I can't do this, I'm sorry." Shawn, not seeming the least bit deterred by what he was saying, moved in for another kiss, whining as he was pushed away again.

"Why not? I know you want to kiss me." He groaned, rubbing his nose against Lassiter's, their lips just barely touching. "Please, kiss me."

Carlton steadied himself, not sure he had the amount of willpower needed to turn down a ready and willing Shawn Spencer pleading for kisses. "You're right." For the second time tonight, he found himself saying that. "I do want to kiss you, more than anything, but not like this. Not when you're drunk and don't know what you're doing."

Shawn went for a low blow, grinding his half-erect lower half against the detective's. He smiled and moaned as they connected, feeling that he wasn't the only one currently excited.. "I'm pretty sure I still know what I'm doing."

The detective's knees would have given out in that moment if not for the wall. He bit his lip to keep from making an undignified noise. "Shawn, you know what I mean." He separated their faces once again and locked eyes with the brunette. "You need to go to sleep now. If you still want to kiss me when you wake up, then we'll talk."

Shawn nodded sullenly, allowing himself to be escorted to the couch. He settled in and before he knew it, he had blinked and Carlton was back to the couch with a blanket and pillow, tucking him in. As he fell asleep, he had a feeling that the hangover in the morning was going to be totally worth it.

Shawn kept his eyes closed as he woke up, covering his face with his hands. No matter what, he couldn't seem to keep the light out of his eyes. Finally giving up, he moved his hands and looked over to find Detective Lassiter staring at him quite seriously.

"Take these." He handed over a glass and a couple of pills, not even the slightest sense of amusement on his face.

Shawn was pretty sure that he'd kissed Lassiter last night and he was also pretty sure that he wasn't the only one that had liked it. Maybe he'd gotten it wrong in his drunkenness. Maybe he imagined Carlton being as excited as he was. He took the pills without question, not wanting to make the following rejection any worse than it was going to be.

"I need you to tell me everything you remember that happened last night, Shawn. Everything." He'd never seen the blue eyes so hard and calculating, completely devoid of any emotion.

He put his hands on his head as he sat up, fighting against the nausea he felt, only partially due to his hangover. "Look, whatever I did last night, I'm sorry. I get handsy when I get drunk, I know I crossed a line and it won't happen again. Can I please go back to sleep and we can both pretend it never happened?"

"I don't mean what happened here. Before that, I need to know everything that happened before that." He raised his voice, obviously losing his patience.

"Okay, okay... I went out to a bar, met a guy, hit it off and went back to his place. His wife came home before anything could happen and kicked me out. That's it." It worried him that he'd never seen this side of Carlton before. It was dangerous, almost feral and more than a little frightening.

"Is this the man you met?" He held up a picture of a man a few years older than Shawn with dark hair, light eyes and a charming smile. The Detective couldn't help noticing the resemblance as he stared at the image earlier.

"Yeah, that's him. Carlton, what's going on?" Even Shawn felt that the moment was too serious for nicknames and jokes. He sensed that something was very wrong.

"His name is Mark Ledder, he was found dead by his housekeeper this morning. There were obvious signs of a struggle, your belongings were all over the scene and his wife is officially considered a missing person. I need every detail about what happened."

-TBC-


	2. Chapter 2

-At the Station-

After a couple of hours, Lassiter sent the psychic home and poured over every detail that Shawn had given him, as few as that might have been. He filed the reports and trying to connect all of the dots, his first instinct worried him. The last time that Shawn had been randomly interested in someone and they disappeared, it had been the work of a serial killer, but that just didn't sit right with him. He had a gut feeling that it was something else, he just wasn't sure what.

He tried to stay focused on the facts important to the case, but his mind kept drifting to the irrelevant information. Like the fact that Shawn had chosen a man that looked strikingly similar to himself to go home with. He found it amusing that Shawn couldn't hold his liquor very well.

Carlton blinked and thought that over again. He knew for a fact that Shawn could drink him under the table. He had either miscounted the number of drinks he'd had or something was wrong. He ran back to his desk for his phone and dialed Spencer immediately. "I need you back at the station right away."

As he turned around to find his partner, he came face to face with the other man, startled. "Jesus! How do you do that, Spencer?"

Shawn covered his ears and winced. "Okay, really, is the yelling necessary? I still feel like I got his by a bulldozer, so if we could use our inside voices, that would be awesome." Lassiter regained his composure and Shawn continued. "I figured that you would have an idea soon and leaving would be pointless. I've been napping in Interrogation Room B, but it's not helping. What have you got?"

Carlton offered the seat at his desk to the psychic without thinking anything of it. "You said you only had three drinks, correct?"

"Yeah, one beer and a couple of shots." Shawn looked confused, not getting the point.

"Have you ever had such a bad hangover after having that little to drink? Scratch that, have you ever been that drunk after only three drinks?"

Something clicked and finally Shawn was on the same page. "No. Never." He bit his lip, finally making sense of why his memory was so patchy and why he felt so bad.

"We need to get a blood sample and urine test immediately. It was only about 12 hours ago, if we're lucky we can still get a good trace on exactly what he gave you." He jumped up, ready to chase the lead.

He looked back when Shawn was still sitting, hands to his head in a psychic way, not a hung over way. "He didn't bring me my drinks, Lassie." He looked up, still in the process of figuring it out. "I don't just drink things that people give to me, specifically for that reason. They all came straight from the bartender. If anyone put anything in my drink, it was him."

"Good, that's good, Spencer." He wanted to rush out and bust the guy right away, but they still needed the drug test, just in case. He wasn't willing to risk Shawn's safety for his own impulses. "Let's get the tests out of the way and then we'll go back to the bar to track him down. I'll have the lab send the results to Guster as well to see if he has any input."

Shawn could see the detective holding himself back from breaking all of the doors down to get to the bartender. It made his heart skip that the man felt so protective over him all of a sudden. They made their way to the lab when Shawn stopped and squatted down, holding his stomach.

Lassiter crouched down next to him, hand on his shoulder. "Are you all right, Spencer?" He got nothing but a groan in response, worrying him. "Shawn?" He grabbed the shoulder a little tighter.

"I'm fine, just feeling a little sick." He grabbed onto Carlton's arms as he lifted himself back up to a standing position, with a little help.

"After the tests, you're going home to get some sleep." Their eyes locked and Shawn could tell by the look on Lassiter's face that it was not a suggestion. That didn't stop him from trying, though.

"But!"

"I'll send a copy of the case file to Gus."

He was about to protest again when he realized what had been said. "Wait, what?" He didn't understand. "Why would you do that?"

Lassiter sighed, leading Shawn into the lab. "Because I know you. If I don't give it to you, you'll just do something stupid, put yourself in danger and still end up with it. If I just give you the file, will you please go home and rest while trying to solve the case? At least until you're feeling better."

He didn't want any arguments and he certainly didn't want Shawn in more danger. He knew that something foul was going on and he knew that he wouldn't be able to keep Shawn away from the case for long. Normally, the psychic was a very capable man, but If something went wrong today, he wouldn't be able to protect Shawn in his current state, he would be too much of a hindrance to risk.

"Fine, but if that bartender gives you any excuse, give him a right hook from me. To the gut would be nice." He winced, sitting on the doctor's table, ready to get these tests over with. Then he could go back to his apartment and work this whole thing out with Gus.

-With Gus-

Gus grabbed the files from the fax machine in the Psych office and headed over to Shawn's apartment as soon as he'd found out what was going on.

"Okay, Shawn. Tell me everything, from the beginning." The files were spread out all over Shawn's living room floor, Gus pouring over them, Shawn poured onto the couch.

"It's all right there, buddy. Have fun." He covered his head with his hands, just wanting to feel better already. He huffed, not happy about being sent away from the case, but a little glad to get to rest it off. He trusted that Lassiter wouldn't leave any stone unturned.

"I know, it's right here, Shawn. I can see it." He looked at Shawn with slight annoyance. "You know it will help you to talk it out again. Concentrate and we'll go as slow as you need."

He rolled onto his side, knowing his friend was right, but somehow not having the energy to do anything. "Come on, Gus. Don't be the animals at the zoo doing inappropriate things in front of a 3rd grade class field trip."

"That was a perfectly natural act, Shawn. How many times-"

"Fine, fine! From the top, then…" Shawn cleared his mind, closed his eyes and focused like he was counting hats. "It was about 11 when I got to the bar. I sat at the bar on the end and ordered a beer. I'd noticed Mark right away and I'm pretty sure that he was watching me most of the time."

Gus kept quiet, letting Shawn remember. "I finished my beer and before I could order another, he'd walked up and ordered two shots, insisting that I have one with him. It was a little presumptuous, but I saw no harm in it." He stopped for a minute, crooking his head to the side as if remembering something vastly important.

"They signaled each other." He looked at Gus, surprised at having not noticed it sooner. "The bartender asked 'the usual?' and Mark said 'make it the special'. They were working together, Gus. I bet it wasn't the first time either. The bartender probably had some drugs ready to go, just waiting for Mark to pick out his victim for the night."

Gus stared, it made so much sense, that must be what happened. "It's the perfect plan. No one ever questions anything coming from the bartender…" Shawn felt so stupid for having not noticed it before. In his defense, he had a lot on his mind, but he wasn't some stupid college girl that was easy to take advantage of. At least he hadn't thought so before. "What happened after that?"

"After the first shot, I felt fine. We talked, he got close, I didn't mind. We had another shot, that I'm pretty sure was a regular shot and he asked if I wanted to go back to his place. He was very convincing…"

Gus raised his eyebrows and looked at the picture of the man in the file. He looked like the kind of man that could talk his way into anything that he wanted. Add in some drugs, and Mother Theresa wouldn't have been able to say no to him.

-Flashback-

_"Why don't we get out of here, Shawn?" The man practically purred in his ear. "I don't live far and I don't have a no shirt, no shoes policy…"_

_ Shawn's thoughts were a little hazy from the alcohol and even more hazy from the teeth nipping at his sensitive ear. He sighed, remembering how good it felt to be wanted, knowing that he didn't have the willpower to say no. This man was the closest he was going to get to who he really wanted._

_ He pulled Mark's face from his neck, locking their eyes. "Lead the way." Mark smiled, and sealed the deal with a searing kiss that made Shawn dizzy and certain that he wasn't going to regret his decision._

_ In the car, Mark used one hand to drive the car and the other to drive Shawn mad. His right hand spent most of its time caressing Shawn's left thigh, sometimes becoming more adventurous, skimming across the hardness between the psychic's legs._

_ They hit a red light that Mark knew to be extremely long and he pulled Shawn toward him, closing the gap between their lips again. His fingers ran through Shawn's hair, pulling just enough to make him gasp into the other's mouth._

_ Their kiss broke as the light turned, but Mark sat there an extra moment to whisper in Shawn's ear. "You have no idea the things I'm going to do to you tonight, Shawn." Had he not been so far gone, he would have noticed how sinister the grin on Mark's face looked._

-TBC-


	3. Chapter 3

"So what happened after you got back to his house?" Gus stared, raising his eyebrow in interest of the details that he knew Shawn wouldn't tell Lassiter. Leaving out only the juiciest of details, he recounted the entire story to Gus.

-Flashback-

_Shawn couldn't keep the noise from coming out of him, everything that Mark was doing was what he wanted. If he didn't know any better, he'd think the guy was reading his mind and following exactly where he wanted him to go. They made quick work of getting from the car to inside the house, stopping only to grind against each other at the door while trying to get it open. _

_ Once inside the house, Shawn was slammed back against the front door. It stung, but before he could really focus on the pain, Mark was grabbing his ass, pulling him forward and up, sending their bodies colliding into each other._

_ As Shawn's legs lifted off the ground and wrapped around Mark's waist, he lopped his arms around the older man's neck. He held on tightly as he was carried down the hall to the bedroom, being slung haphazardly into every wall and piece of furniture in the way._

_He couldn't care less about being carried around like a rag doll, as long as Mark kept touching him and kissing him. In the bedroom, they broke apart long enough for Shawn to catch a seductive smirk. "Take your clothes off, Shawn. Before I tear them off." Before he could reply, he was tossed onto his back on the bed. He had already lost his shirt somewhere, and he didn't really care where._

_ He stared up for a moment, mesmerized by the sight in front of him, the other man's hands running along the front of his own pants, slowly toying with his belt buckle, but eventually pushing his pants to the ground, stepping out of them. He groaned, reaching to remove his own pants, to free his own ache._

_ As soon as his hips left the mattress, he was pinned again, Mark so kindly helping him remove his pants while sinking his teeth into Shawn's neck._

_Pants gone, a firm hand found its way around Shawn's erection, stroking roughly and quickly, wanting to get the first round out of the way. Obviously Mark knew from experience that the second time around it was always better and lasted longer._

_ Shawn dug his fingers into Mark and his toes into the bed, more than ready for what was coming, when the bedroom door slammed open._

_ Shawn, reacting slower than normal, pulled away from Mark as quickly as he could, struggling to tuck himself back into his boxers. He was ready to be yelled at, maybe even slapped a few times and kicked out. What he wasn't ready for was the gun she was pointing at him._

_ "What the fuck is going on here?" She yelled, looking back and forth between them. Shawn put his hands up and backed as far away on the bed as he could. She kept her gun steady as he moved away._

Shawn stopped, mid-sentence, once again realizing something that should have been obvious the other night when it was happening. "Gus, she wasn't aiming the gun at me."

He looked over at his partner as Gus's eyes widened. "What? What does that mean?" Gus furrowed his brow, trying to make sense of it

Shawn nodded to himself, putting the pieces together. "She must have known something was up. If she were randomly walking in on her husband cheating she wouldn't have already had a gun drawn. She definitely knew something."

"Could she have known that he drugged you?" Gus picked up where Shawn's thought left off. "Maybe she knew what was happening and kicked you out to protect you."

"Gus, we have to talk to Lassie and we definitely have to find her." Shawn sat up on the couch, his energy renewed despite him still not feeling 100%.

Gus sighed. He knew that Shawn was really onto something, but he wanted to leave this one to Lassiter. Shawn needed time to recover, whether he wanted it or not. Before he could protest, his phone buzzed.

"Shawn, I just got your results from the doctor. This is… This isn't random roofies." He passed his phone to Shawn and pointed to explain what it all meant. "This combination in these exact amounts is very precise. If there were any more of less of anything, it wouldn't be even remotely useful. This was made by someone that knew exactly what they were doing. I don't know how you are even functioning right now with these drugs in your system."

As worried as Gus was before, he didn't even know what to say now. He hadn't fully grasped just what had happened until he saw the list of drugs his best friend had been given.

"Easily. I spent 5 months in Santa Fe a few years ago selling my body to science. They pumped me full of so many drugs, I'm pretty much Spiderman now." He shrugged it off as usual.

"Spiderman was bitten by a radioactive spider, Shawn."

"I've heard it both ways. Anyway, I'm gonna call Lassie, we need to get him up to speed."

Gus knew he couldn't stop Shawn from doing what he wanted to do, but he could at least guilt trip him into slowing down. "Fine, we'll talk to Lassiter, but you need to tell me if you start to feel any worse. The side effects you're suffering from now are mild compared to what they can be."

Shawn rubbed his temples, unable to brush off Gus's concerned-face. "Sure thing, buddy." He dialed the Head Detective's number, grumbled when he didn't answer and settled for leaving a message. "Hey, Carly, it's Shawn. Gus and I totally just won the game. It was definitely the wife, in the bedroom with the revolver. You're going to love the twist ending, but if you wanna know, you gotta call me back."

- With Lassiter-

Lassiter slammed his fist onto the bar, barely able to hold himself back from strangling the man across the bar from him. "Look, scumbag. I've got a warrant on its way right now to bust you for illegal substance abuse among many other things, so I suggest you start cooperating and answering my questions before I make your life a living hell."

O'Hara stood back, letting her partner vent, hoping that this guy would cave and give them some useful information. Honestly, she just didn't want to get in his way. She's never seen him so fired up before. It seemed more personal than it should have been, considering that she hadn't ever really considered Carlton and Shawn that close of friends.

"Look, I told you I don't know anything about the guy's wife. I don't even know anything about him. We did occasional business, I didn't even know his name until you came here asking about him."

Lassiter took a few deep breaths, deciding that while it would make him feel better, shooting this guy was probably not the best move he could make at the moment. "What kind of business?"

"He would pick out a guy, I would slip him some stuff. Simple enough deal. He paid in cash, in advance, for the drugs and the service." The guy bit his tongue, not happy about having to talk to the cops. He wasn't stupid, if it would get him off of the murder suspect list, he would happily cooperate and take the minor charges the detective was threatening him with.

"You're going to take a trip downtown now. You'll give my guy detailed descriptions of everyone you've ever seen him leave with. For your own sake, I hope you have a very good memory." Lassiter motioned for McNabb to come over, passing the bartender along. He wasn't going to get anything else from him right now.

Juliet walked with Carlton out of the bar heading to the car. He checked his phone, listening the message left for him only a few minutes before. He re-dialed the number as soon as it was over, putting it on speaker for his partner.

"Shawn, how do you know the wife did it? That doesn't make any sense." His partner made a small questioning face at the use of the psychic's first name. That was different.

"Well, at first we weren't sure, it was just a guess, but now I'm gonna say it's my final answer."

"But how, Spencer? How do you know? I need something solid to go on here." Lassiter was not in the mood for games after getting the run-around for too long with the bartender.

"Well, a lot of it has to do with the fact that she told me that she did it. That pretty much had me convinced."

"She told you, or she 'told' you?" Carlton questioned, lending a skeptical tone to the second option.

"It's as if she were sitting across the table from Gus and I confessing to it."

"…Please tell me you're not actually sitting across the table from a murderer."

"Okay. I won't."

"Address. Now."

Juliet took down the address of the motel as they jumped into the car, sirens blaring.

-Back with Shawn and Gus-

"They're on their way now. We'll go down to the station and get this all sorted out, don't you worry, Mrs. Ledder." Shawn smiled, placing his hand on top of the woman's.

"Thank you, Mr. Spencer. I knew that you would help me, I just knew it." She smiled back and pulled her hand away to blot the edges of her watery eyes. "I also knew it was only a matter of time before you found me, with your gift and all."

Shawn played it up a bit, for theatrics' sake. "Well, yes, of course. I saw a blue bird this morning and I just knew that it was a sign to help lead me to you." Shawn hadn't seen a bird, but he had remembered seeing several pads of stationary from the Blue Jay Inn around the house he night before.

They made small talk while waiting for the cavalry to show up. Shawn had already gotten the basics from her and wanted to save revealing the details for a later psychic vision.

They stepped outside as soon as he could hear the sirens approaching. Lassiter's car screeched to a halt inches in front of them outside the motel room's door. "Shawn, Gus, what is going on? Where is she?"

They rushed out of the car, guns drawn, ready to diffuse a hostage situation. Lassiter grabbed Shawn and pulled him away from the door, immediately putting himself between the younger man and any danger there may be.

"Calm down, guys! She's inside, completely cooperative, just go inside and get her. We'll catch you up at the station." He had a big ordeal planned, but now that the time had come, he didn't have the energy to go through with it. Maybe later.

Gus went to the car while the detectives went inside with Shawn to retrieve their murderer. Juliet frisked and cuffed the woman while Lassiter kept his gun aimed at her. Just in case.

Shawn put his hand on Carlton's arm as he started walking out behind his partner. "Do you have a sec?"

He holstered his gun, turning to Shawn after he'd made sure that O'Hara had the suspect safely detained. "What is it?" The door swung shut on its own as he turned away from it, facing Shawn.

He expected some insight into the case, but what he got was Spencer very much in his personal space. "Did you mean what you said last night?" Shawn looked at him, his eyes saying that he wasn't playing any games. He looked almost insecure with his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels.

"Which part?" Lassiter gulped, a little thrown off by the sudden topic change. After he found out that Shawn had been drugged, he figured that was the only reason for what happened last night. He was prepared to never bring it up again.

"I'm awake and I still want you to kiss me." Shawn shrugged and looked away for a moment. "Do you?" He felt like he was going out on a limb given how Lassiter had been treating him since he woke up. Normally he could read people, but he was so off his game today. It made him feel vulnerable to not know what everyone else was thinking.

Lassiter thought about his next move carefully. He took the small steps to close the gap between them. He ran his fingers along Shawn's jaw, lifting his head to meet his gaze. "Shawn, I've wanted to kiss you for a long time, and that's not going to change." Before Shawn got the wrong idea about what was going to happen, he pulled his hand back and started to walk to the door. "But… Our first proper kiss is not going to be in a sleazy motel."

Shawn smiled and nodded, following him out. "I can live with that."

-TBC-


	4. Chapter 4

Carlton sat behind the mirror, staring thoughtfully at the woman on the other side. Juliet had retrieved her belongings and was going through her purse, hoping to find anything useful before their interrogation began.

She pulled out a small envelope, handing it to Lassiter as she continued to dig. "What do you think?"

Carlton had no idea what to think. His first impression was that Shawn was right about her looking rather… Masculine. Though for her outward appearance, she had a very timid temperament. Many of her neighbors that had been interviewed had only seen her out of the house a few times and when they did, she rarely spoke more than greetings.

He opened the envelope, pulling out a stack of several pictures. There wasn't anything odd about them at first, they were just random pictures of different men. As he flipped through them they became disturbing, by the end they were down right gruesome.

"I think this is bigger than we thought." He grimaced, motioning for her to follow him into the room. Something about this woman just didn't sit right with him.

He threw the pictures on the table, expecting some reaction, not getting any. "What the hell are these?" He leaned over the table, spreading the pictures out over the surface.

The suspect took a deep breath, steadying her hands on the table before reaching for a picture. She picked up one of the normal pictures of a young man with shaggy brown hair. "His name was Eric." She set the photo aside and reached for another. "James. Richard. Jack. Michael." With each name she called out, she lined up their pictures.

She picked up the other set of pictures, the grisly ones, and matched them with each of the men. "This is what happened to them after my husband brought them home." She met Carlton's gaze, the disgust she felt at touching the images apparent. He could also see guilt in her eyes.

"You're saying that your husband did this? Killed all of these men?" As he said it out loud, he thought about it. He thought about Shawn being one of those pictures on the table and shuddered.

"He did more than that, but yes. In the end, he killed them." She was obviously trying very hard to reign in her emotions as she spoke.

"And you knew about this?" Carlton almost growled at her, still thinking about what could have happened.

"Yes." She looked away, shame on her face.

"Why didn't you come to the police?" While he had started out feeling almost a little bad for her, he felt mostly anger now that she could let something like this happen.

"You see what he did to them, imagine what he would have done to me. When I found out…" She paused, hardly able to speak her next words. "He made me help. He said it was that, or he would kill me too. I told him that I would do whatever he said."

Juliet questioningly looked at her partner as yet another piece was added to the puzzle. "Elaborate." He kept it simple, not wanting to spook her confession.

"He forced me to do things, he said that it would incriminate me. If I ever turned him in, I would look just as guilty as he did. He said that I would have to rot in jail with him."

"What, specifically, did he make you do?" It pissed Lassiter off that he couldn't put his finger on what was wrong with this story. It was far-fetched, but certainly not impossible. He had seen victims turn into killers before, that part wasn't anything new.

"When I first caught him, he had already killed this young man." She pointed to the third picture in the line, Richard. "He made me hold onto the knife, he also cut my arm here," She pointed to a small cut in her forearm. "and smeared my blood on his body. I know that I should have come to the police, but I was too afraid. Of him and of being thought a murderer."

"And what changed the game? Because now you're freely admitting to murder, that's a little more than incriminating, don't you think?" He wasn't doing a very good job on holding his emotions in, even Juliet could see that.

"Shawn changed 'the game'." Her tone turned bitter when Lassiter patronized the fact that she was a murderer. Before he could question her, she went on. "I've been a fan of him and his gift for a long time. I've always followed his cases, I guess I sort of have a crush on him. Mark mentioned once that he also found Shawn attractive and he was his type, but I never thought…"

She had to stop and look away, obviously as upset as Lassiter at the idea of her husband hurting the psychic. She looked back at Lassiter, vindication in her eyes. "I never thought he would try to hurt him. I stopped by the bar to see if he was there and I saw them leaving together. I didn't know what else to do."

Lassiter nodded, finally feeling some sympathy for the woman. If he had known that someone was going to hurt the psychic, he would have shot them too. Probably more than once. "So you followed them back to your home and kicked Shawn out. What happened after that?" He turned around, gathering himself, re-checking his emotions.

She nodded sullenly. "I thought that I could tell him to stay away from Shawn, that he was off limits, but he wouldn't listen. He said it had been a challenge and that I failed. Mark told me that it would have been the ultimate proof that I was dedicated to him and that he could trust me, but he knew then that he couldn't. He said I was too much of a risk after all." She looked to Juliet for sympathy, tears at the edge of her eyes. "He was going to kill me and he would have gone back for Shawn after."

Juliet couldn't help but feel bad for the woman, and grateful at the same time for saving her friend. "Mrs. Ledder, is there anything else you can think to tell us? Anything at all that might help us prove your story?"

She nodded, wiping her eyes. "I can tell you where their bodies are."

-At the Psych Office-

"So you were right. She kicked you out to save you and then killed her husband." Gus tossed the case file on the desk and sat down the on corner. "But why would she run away and then turn herself in?"

Shawn rubbed his face and leaned against the counter. "Maybe she was going to run then changed her mind?" He started to pace through the office, shaking his hands to his side in an attempt to think. "Something just isn't right and I can't figure it out! God, Gus, this sucks!"

He was obviously frustrated, angry that he couldn't think as clearly as normal. On any other day, he would have had this case cracked already and they'd be having hotdogs. Instead, he's stuck wondering what the nagging feeling in the back of his mind is supposed to mean, and his stomach is growling.

"Let's go eat, we can worry about this later. If she's telling the truth, then our job is done. If not… Well, there's nothing we can do about that now." Gus grabbed his keys and started heading to the front door. "Plus, you know that Pink's has healing powers. You'll feel better in no time."

Shawn couldn't help but laugh. Gus' been insisting on eating their hotdogs during every illness he's had for the past 20 years, no matter how small. If he so much as sniffles, it's Pink's for lunch. Maybe it really would do the trick for Shawn too, they even had coupons.

-At S.B.P.D. A Week Later-

"She was telling the truth. About everything." Carlton stared at his desk, taking to himself after having just returned from Mrs. Ledder's trial.. Every detail about where the men were, how they were killed… It was all spot on, she had told the truth about everything. Even the ones that had her blood and fingerprints on them.

He was putting away the paperwork from trial. Her lawyer had convinced the D.A. to make it fast and private. She had admitted to killing her husband in self defense in trade for a time-served sentence and some community service. He had never believed in or supported vigilante justice, but in this case… He wasn't too upset.

He put his papers away, rubbing his eyes as if that would make everything that had happened go away. He needed to get away from the office for a while now that the case was over, thank goodness he had the next few days off.

He toyed with his phone on the way to his car, debating dialing a certain number. He sighed and tucked the phone back into his pocket.

Carlton had been in his house for no more than a minute when his doorbell rang. He looked through the peephole only mildly surprised to see one Shawn Spencer standing on his porch with a box of pizza and a six-pack.

"The psychic world says that they can hear your tummy grumbling from miles away. It's very off-putting." Shawn handed over the pizza box and he let himself in.

"Would you like to come in?" Carlton asked sarcastically as he followed the psychic to the kitchen and placed the pizza on the counter then headed to the living room to sit down. Truth be told, though his stomach was growling, he had no appetite, but he was glad that Shawn had stopped by. One of them had to have the guts to get the ball rolling between them. The past week had been more than a little disappointing for them both.

"So, she went the self-defense route, huh?" Shawn leaned against the counter, opening a beer for himself and one for Lassiter. He joined the detective on the couch, handing over the bottle.

The detective took the drink, happily taking a big gulp. "Yeah, she got time-served and some community service hours."

"Well, that's good. Case closed then, huh?" Shawn rubbed his hands together, excited and finally having all of his usual energy back.

Lassiter smiled, glad to see Shawn back to normal. "Yeah, it's great. I can finally take a break and relax."

"What? You? Taking a break? Unheard of!" Spencer set his beer down on the table and climbed up on the couch. "And relaxing… That is just inconceivable."

"Spencer? What are you doing?" Lassiter stared to turn around, but was held in place as the psychic sat behind him on the couch.

"Calm down, Lassie. You're supposed to be relaxing." Shawn nudged him forward on the couch, making more room for himself. He reached over his shoulders, sliding the jacket off of the older man. "Can you remove the holster?"

Carlton looked over his shoulder with uncertainty, but undid his straps and placed his gun on the chair next to them.

"Thank you." Shawn's hands immediately found the most tender part on Lassiter's shoulders to rub, right where the straps sat. He felt almost naked without the weight of his gun, but he could feel the tension melting away as Shawn rubbed and pinched his muscles.

"God, where did you learn this?" Lassiter almost moaned, he hadn't thought he was so tense until this.

Shawn smiled, loving the feeling of touching the detective and loving the response he was getting. "I spent a few months in Honduras as a massage therapist. I also doubled as an ordained minister. You'd be surprised how often those two occupations overlapped."

Carlton raised his eyebrows and shrugged, not surprised by his previous work experiences anymore. He leaned back against Shawn, putting up no resistance to the straying hands.

Shawn reached around Lassiter's front and slowly began unbuttoning his shirt. Before he could comment, Shawn chimed in. "It's getting in the way." Carlton nodded, untucking his shirt and taking care of the lower buttons before letting the younger man remove it completely.

He was right, without the shirt, it felt even more amazing. He felt every touch a thousand times more than before. His breath hitched as he felt Shawn's lips on the back of his neck, chastely caressing his skin. That simple, vulnerable act was more seductive to him that having Shawn's entire body pressed against his the week before.

Carlton reached over his own shoulders to grab a hold of Shawn's arms, forcing him even closer. Spencer willingly leaned in, wrapping his arms across Lassiter's chest as he buried his face against his neck. They sat that way for a moment, just holding each other, before Shawn moved his lips upward to graze Carlton's ear.

He shuddered, his grip on Shawn's arm tightening. When the fake psychic's teeth pulled at his lobe, that was all that he could take. He used his grip to pull Shawn around, repositioning him on his lap, their bodies facing each other.

Shawn inhaled sharply, surprised at the sudden change of position, but certainly not complaining. They locked eyes for far too long, neither wanting to move, afraid of opening the flood gates.

"You know…" Carlton hesitated, not wanting to ruin the mood, but unable to keep his true feelings hidden any longer. "When I found out what Mark had done to those other men and how close he came to hurting you… I hadn't realized just how strongly I felt about you until then. If he had hurt you, I would have been the one to kill him."

Shawn's lips turned to a smile as he wrapped his arms around broad shoulders. "I know. Why'd you think I called you of all people?" Carlton looked at a loss, still having believed that the call was random.

The young man's face became more serious. "I knew that you would save me. Even drugged and drunk, instinctively I knew that something was wrong and I knew that no one would make me feel as safe as you."

Having each dropped their emotional bombs, Carlton decided that there was no more holding back, emotionally or physically. He leaned in and brought Shawn's face to his, barely touching their lips before pulling away, then bringing them back together. He counted to himself what each kiss was for, promising that one day he would share the list with Shawn.

The first was for the way Shawn lit up the room when he walked in, the second for the chills he sent down Carlton's spine when they touched, however brief. The third was for the way he felt when he sensed Shawn looking at him when he was looking away and the fourth, their first real, passionate kiss was because Carlton knew that no other person could ever make him feel the way that Shawn did.

Shawn sighed, oblivious to the list in the other man's mind, but feeling every bit of tenderness and yearning that he was giving and returning it equally. Kisses deepening, he couldn't hold back any longer. Keeping their lips together, he scooted their bodies closer, sliding against Carlton's lap in his quest to completely connect with him.

Lassiter bit into the flesh of his lip and moved his hands from Shawn's waist to his thighs, squeezing in approval at the friction, lifting his own hips to recreate the feeling.

Spencer's breathing started to become heavier and he pressed down again, in time with his partner's upward lift, crashing their most sensitive parts together. The hands on his legs moved up to remove his shirt, separating their tongues for the first time, leaving them both panting, out of breath.

Lassiter mumbled something against his neck about the bedroom as he slid his hand into the back of Shawn's pants, firmly grabbing a hold of his bottom, lifting him up. As he was carried down the hallway, Shawn couldn't help but feel like something was wrong. He shrugged off the feeling as Carlton paused at his bedroom door, taking the opportunity to ravish his mouth again as he fiddled with the knob.

Carlton didn't bother closing the door behind him and he gently lay Shawn down on the bed, resting on top of him. He rested between Spencer's legs, working his hands between them to unbuckle Shawn's belt.

Shawn tried feebly to break away, overwhelmed with a foreboding sense of déjà vu. As he managed to get Lassiter's attention and separate them, it was too late. Shawn heard a sickening crack as Carlton fell onto him, limp. He looked up to see none other than Mrs. Ledder standing above him, holding Lassiter's gun.

Shawn refused to back away this time, instead he immediately moved to make sure that Lassiter was all right. He was bleeding and would have a knot the size of Texas on his head, but he would be fine. Still, Shawn covered him protectively.

"Shawn, Shawn, Shawn… And I really thought you were psychic. Finding me was impressive, but you really believed I was innocent, didn't you?" She shook her head disapprovingly. "A real psychic would have known."

Shawn glared at her. "Well maybe if I hadn't been drugged, I would have been a little sharper. Now that I'm feeling better, I can see everything." He put his hands to his head, working out the real story.

"You and Mark were in the whole scheme together, a perfect pair. He picked up the men, had his way with them, and then tag, you're it. He didn't plant the evidence of you on the weapons and bodies, it was there because you're the one that killed them when he was done using them."

She smiled, as if proud of him for figuring it out, but didn't interrupt him as he continued.

"The only thing you told the truth about was your crush on me. You didn't kill your husband because you wanted to save me, you killed him because you wanted me all to yourself." Shawn's heart was pounding, not only did he have to scheme his way out of this, he had to make sure that Lassiter was safe as well.

"And now I've got you all to myself." She smiled wider, still looking outwardly just as innocent as before, the context being the only thing that made her smile seem sinister. "Unless you think your cop friend won't want to share."

She raised the gun to Lassiter's unconscious body and raised her eyebrows. "You should know by now that I will kill anyone that comes between us."

"No!" Shawn almost jumped up, ready to block her bullet if she fired. "Look, I'll go wherever you want, I'll do whatever you want. But if you hurt him, make no mistake, I will kill you." He scowled, letting her know that he had never been more serious in his life. She would barely have time to pull the trigger before she regretted it.

"Fine, fine. We can leave him here. He couldn't find me last time, so I'm sure he won't bother us this time." She shrugged, as if killing Lassiter was completely inconsequential to her. She waved the gun at Shawn, reminding him that they had plans. "We do need to be going soon, though. As much as it pains me to request this, you need to get dressed."

She threw Shawn's undershirt at him and motioned to the door. As much as Shawn didn't like the idea of her walking behind him, he didn't have much choice. The only way Carlton was going to make it out of this alive was if he led her away.

As Shawn reached the bedroom door and finished pulling his shirt over his face, everything went black. She'd hit him square in the temple with the butt of the gun, same as Lassiter and made no attempt to catch him as he fell to the ground.

She put the gun away and dragged Shawn out of the bedroom, smiling to herself the whole way to the trunk.

-With Lassie a Couple of Hours Later-

Before he was completely conscious, Lassiter could feel the dread taking over him. His head felt like it was going to explode and he couldn't remember why, but it wasn't good. He looked around, trying to grasp at the memory of what happened.

He held his head, feeling the blood that had stopped flowing, but wasn't quite dried. The detective made his way down the hall, holding onto the walls for stability. He saw Shawn's shirt next to his on the armchair in the corner along with two beers on the table in the living room and he remembered what they'd been doing. But what happened after that?

He grabbed his cell phone from the table and the holster from the chair, to find that his gun was missing. He sat down on the chair and covered his eyes with his hands. He remembered being with Shawn on the couch and moving to the bedroom.

Shawn had tried to tell him something before it all went wrong. Something about déjà vu then he could hear a familiar voice ringing in his ears. 'Shawn, Shawn, Shawn…' then nothingness.

He knew that voice. He jumped up, ignoring the throbbing in his head and the dizziness he felt. He ran to his car as he dialed his partner. He didn't even wait for a response before he barked out his orders. "Meet me at the station, O'Hara. It's Shawn… It's an emergency."

He hung up, again without waiting for a response. He peeled out of his driveway, lights and sirens blaring. He radioed dispatch to put in a code red on Mrs. Ledder's S.U.V.. As far as the station was concerned, one of their own was out there and needed to be found. Fast.

-TBC-


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** This chapter is a little more angst than normal, sorry! It had to be done. There are only a couple more chapters left and I'm thinking about a sequel, but I'm on the fence. Let me know what you think!

Lassiter slammed his hands down on the desk, frustrated beyond belief. It had been at least six hours since Shawn had been abducted and they had no idea where he could be. Every officer available, even those that were off duty, were looking for him, but until they had something to go on, Shawn was the needle and at this point, most of California was the haystack.

He stood up too fast, holding himself up by leaning on his desk. Juliet had insisted on patching up his head as they began to look for Shawn. She also insisted that they send out the beat cops on the manhunt while they stayed behind looking over the files for real clues. They both knew that they weren't just going to drive by and stumble upon where Shawn was being kept. Still, it was worth trying.

Lassiter started down the hallway, punching walls as he went, angry with himself for not being more useful. In six hours, the psychic could already be dead and if he wasn't, every minute counted and he was no closer to figuring it out than he was six hours ago.

It was coming up on four in the morning and after being pistol-whipped, he was reaching his limit. He leaned against the wall at the end of the hall and closed his eyes. He almost dozed off for a moment and his thoughts went back to talking to Shawn in the hotel room they found Mrs. Ledder in.

_Carlton had just turned down kissing Shawn while they were alone in the hotel room. He could feel Shawn smiling behind his back and he chirped "I can live with that." Before walking out the door, he turned back, curiously. "How did you know she was here?"_

The memory got fuzzy as he recalled Shawn started to explain how his 'gift' had narrowed it down a couple of places and he got lucky by picking the hotel first.

His eyes snapped open. Two places. Shawn had said there were two places that it could have been. He had tuned his psychic mumbles out, completely disregarding them as another silly charade. "No, no, no…" He held his head and tried to focus. If he'd known that listening to Shawn, taking him seriously for just that moment, he could be saving his life right now. If he'd just known, he would have listened.

He shook his head, refusing to feel sorry for himself. What was important was finding Shawn and pity wasn't going to help anyone. He walked back to his desk and began to sort through the case file again. He had poured over every word, there had to be some connection that they were missing.

He was reading through the statements taken from various neighbors and potential witnesses when a name jumped out at him. Thomas Hogden, the bartender that drugged Shawn and the others. He had seen that name before, those initials. He flipped through the pages furiously, looking for a clue.

He stopped dead in his tracks, stopping his finger on top of the evidence record sheet. 'T. H.' was written on the back of a business card in Mrs. Ledder's purse along with a phone number. He lied about knowing Mark, or at least conveniently left out knowing his wife. Everything came together so neatly, they never pursued the number on the business card. How could they have missed that?

"O'Hara, we need to go!" He grabbed his keys from his desk and practically ran out the door. His partner was already getting the address from dispatch before they reached the car and peeled out of the parking lot.

Lassiter filled his partner in on the connection as they headed to the bartender's home, hoping to find Shawn unharmed.

When they pulled up to the house, there wasn't anything parked in the driveway, but the detectives parked and drew their guns anyway. The snuck around the side of the house and peeked into the garage. They found what they were looking for and as O'Hara called for immediate back-up, Lassiter made his way around the back looking for a way in that wouldn't give them away.

At the back door, he saw that Mrs. Ledder obviously didn't have a key to the place. There was a small window above the door that was already broken in order to unlock the door. He made his way cautiously through the house, his partner not far behind.

The silence in the house sent a chill down his spine. He would rather hear blood-curdling screaming. Screaming would mean that Shawn was still alive. Silence could mean any number of terrifying things.

He cleared the first floor. Normally they would stay together, but this was urgent. Juliet took the upstairs, the less likely place they would be, while Carlton cautiously headed into the basement.

He expected to find Shawn covered in blood, cut to pieces like the other men they'd found, but when he cleared the stairs and turned the corner, he saw Shawn not at all like he pictured. He was lying in the middle of the floor, not a scratch on him. He looked like he was sleeping. Lassiter's heart sunk in fear.

Before he could check on Shawn, he had to make sure that Mrs. Ledder wasn't waiting to ambush him. He walked along the wall, trying to focus on the task at hand. He pulled out his phone and called O'Hara to come down when she cleared the top floor.

He spun around as he heard a noise behind him, coming from the stairwell. Mrs. Ledder stepped out from a small nook behind the stairs, obviously unhappy at being found. He lifted his gun, ready to shoot. "What did you do to him?" He snarled, not looking for games.

She stared at him, eyes dead. "He got what he deserved, detective. He was a liar." She looked at Shawn on the ground and sadness swarmed her features. "I used to love him. I thought he had such a gift, but it was all an act. All lies."

She took a step toward him and he tightened the grip on his piece. "Take one more step and I will shoot. Please, give me a reason to shoot you." He meant every word he said. If she so much as sneezed, it was over.

She stopped, not wanting to make it too easy. She settled for taunting for the moment. "You know, I thought about killing you last night, but I figured without his help, you didn't stand a chance at finding me."

Carlton held his ground, gritting his teeth and waited for his partner to make her way to the basement. "I would shut up if I were you."

As he heard footsteps coming down the stairs, he sighed. His partner fixed her gun on Mrs. Ledder and he put his gun away. "Hold her until back-up arrives." He rushed to the floor to Shawn's limp body. He closed his eyes and prayed for the first time in a long time as he put his fingers on the psychic's neck for a pulse.

He couldn't find it at first, his hands were shaking so badly, but after forcing himself to calm down, he could feel it. Faint, but it was there. Shawn was alive and he's never been more thankful for anything in his entire life.

He looked at O'Hara and nodded, letting her know. Mrs. Ledder huffed, obviously not please about Shawn still being alive. Being the petty psychopath that she was, she figured that if she couldn't have Shawn dead, she may as well at least piss some people off.

She looked at the detective gingerly looking the young man over for any serious injuries and then looked at the woman holding her at gunpoint. "You know why he cares so much, right?"

"Shut up." She didn't want to hear what she had to say.

"They're fucking." She was blunt, trying to throw their game off, catch them of guard.

Juliet was obviously surprised at the brashness of the statement, but didn't lose her focus.

"Did you hear me? They're fucking. Those two!" She was obviously outraged at the idea. She turned to Lassiter, scowling. "How the hell do you think you're good enough to fuck him?"

She leaned forward, almost moving. "You're not even good enough to touch him!"

"I thought you said he was a liar."

"He is. But he's mine and you have no right being anywhere near him." She finally lost it and started at the two men. "Get your fucking hands off him!"

Before she got a single step in, Juliet pulled the trigger twice, both bullets hitting their mark. The first hit square in her back, the other closer to her shoulder. Mrs. Ledder dropped to the ground, coughing. A puddle started to form under her within moments. They both knew that the wounds were fatal and neither went to her aid.

Juliet put away her weapon just as a team of officers came rushing down the stairs to their aid. Juliet called out for them to get a stretcher immediately, that the suspect was down. She walked over to Lassiter and put her hand on his shoulder. "It's over."

He nodded without looking up. His hand on Shawn's hair, rubbing gently. He rode in the ambulance with him as the paramedics tried to determine if they could do anything for him at the moment. For the second time in the day, Lassiter closed his eyes and prayed.

- In the Waiting Room -

It seemed like the entirety of the S.B.P.D. was there, waiting for the doctor to tell them that everything was okay. Lassiter was the only one missing from the crowd, unable to keep himself calm and presentable.

He found an empty stairwell and let a few silent tears fall. After, he just sat, waiting alone. Hearing O'Hara calling his name from the hallway, he dried his eyes and called her in.

"The doctor says they've done everything they can. We can only wait for him to wake up now. Carlton…" Her strong façade cracked and she hugged her partner tightly. "Carlton, he might not wake up…"

He closed his eyes and hugged her back. They stayed that way for a long time. He suspected that she was more upset for him than for herself. She knew that he and the psychic were involved and she knew that this was as hard for him as it was for Henry and Gus. She was upset, but she couldn't know the depth of their pain. She could only be there for them, helping herself cope by helping them cope.

She pulled away, rubbing her eyes. "The doctor says that he should be moved out of I.C.U. by tomorrow morning. That's when we'll be able to visit."

He nodded. "Thank you."

She rubbed his arm before leaving him alone, silently telling him that she was there for him, no matter what.

He straightened his suit and walked back to the waiting room. Chief Vick was speaking with Henry when he arrived, but she soon headed out the door. He stopped her, wanting a quick word in the hall.

"Chief, I'm going to need some time off." His face was emotionless as he spoke.

"I understand, Carlton." She looked at him with sympathetic eyes. After having taken everyone's statements about the events of the day, she was made aware of their relationship. "As much time as you need."

"I'll be back when he comes back. Not a day sooner." Having heard him out, she nodded and went on her way. As much as she would like to stay, she had a department to run and crime waits for no one.

Lassiter left the hospital without saying anything to anyone else. He went to Shawn's apartment and gathered some things for him before heading to his own home. He only meant to collect some clothing and toiletries for himself, but after taking a moment to sit on the bed, he found himself falling into a dreamless sleep.

When he woke up, it was barely the next day and he felt like he'd just blinked without resting at all. He finished collecting a bag of necessities for himself and fixed himself a bland breakfast. He couldn't have enjoyed the food regardless, so there was little point in making it taste good.

Once it was a little later, he packed his car and headed to the hospital. Shawn would be moved to his own room soon, but he wanted a chance to talk to the doctor before then. He hadn't yet gotten the full story on what was wrong with him and he needed to know.

He sat waiting for the doctor, too nervous to fidget, too distressed to even begin showing it. He stood when the doctor arrived. A nice looking older man, somehow still hopeful looking after everything he's seen. Lassiter wonders briefly how it hasn't broken him yet.

"Detective," The doctor started before being cut off.

"Carlton, please. I'm here as his partner, not a detective."

The man smiled, understanding. "Carlton. I'm Doctor Merril, I'll be taking care of Shawn until he's ready to leave. So far, what we know is that there is not much physical trauma. Other than the wound on his head, there is some bruising and swelling around his neck and on his chest. This suggests that he was asphyxiated and resuscitated on more than one occasion in a short period of time."

He waited for Lassiter to process what he had said before he moved on. "The real danger is the excessive amount of sedative in his system. We're doing what we can do get his body back to normal, but once we've flushed it all out, we won't be able to tell if any permanent damage was done until he wakes up."

Lassiter understood everything that was being said to him, but he couldn't comprehend how someone would want to do that to someone like Shawn. Someone that existed for the sole purpose of making the world a brighter, happier place.

The old man put his hand on his shoulder. "He may never wake up, Carlton. At the same time, he may wake up tomorrow perfectly healthy. It's important that we have realistic expectations in a situation like this. I'll make sure he's in a room alone so you can stay with him."

"Thank you." He took a deep breath, trying to prepare himself for what may be a very long and difficult journey. He had been trained in patience, but nothing could have prepared him for what lay ahead this time.

A nurse came to tell him that Shawn was set up and able to have visitors, but he waited until Henry and Gus had some time alone before he went in.

After a while, Henry was walking into the hall with Gus and looked a little surprised to see him, that told Lassiter that no one had mentioned his relationship with Shawn. He simply nodded to them and walked into the empty room. He sat in the chair next to the bed. He could still feel the warmth where Shawn's father had no doubt been sitting and worrying, same as him.

He was hesitant at first to touch him, he looked to frail. Like even the lightest caress would break him. It didn't take long for Lassiter to lose his willpower and run his hand up Shawn's arm. He moved his way up and ran his fingers across the man's pale cheek.

Henry looked back from inside the room to Gus. "Is there something I should know, Gus?"

Gus shrugged, not feeling like that was the most important thing to discuss at the moment. Henry sighed and looked back into the room. "Guess I should have seen that coming."

Gus looked a little worried when Henry took off back into the room. The detective looked up and slowly removed his hand, not because he was ashamed or wanted to hide anything, but because he didn't want to make Shawn's father uncomfortable.

Looking at the expression on Lassiter's face and the grief in his eyes, Henry knew exactly what he was going through. There was no way he could be angry with either of them for not telling him.

Neither man was good at expressing their feelings in words, so they would ignore the subject for the time being. "Just let me know if you want me to go and I will." Lassiter somberly stated honestly, though it was easy to see that he wouldn't want to.

Henry shook his head, thinking carefully before speaking. "When I first got here, I thought that I was going to sit by his bedside every minute until he woke up." He let out a melancholy chuckle. "What good would that do? Knowing Shawn, he'd stay this way just to rile me up."

Lassiter looked confused and maybe a little offended before Henry continued, a little more serious. "I think that he'll wake up for you. You should stay with him."

"Henry…" He couldn't get any words out before the retired officer cut him off.

"I'll be around, visiting. And if anything happens, I better be the first one you call." He rubbed his head nervously, before walking out he door, cutting off any other thoughts that Carlton might have.

Sitting alone in the room with Shawn, having the approval of his father and the thought that he can make some sort of difference gave him a slight kind of hope that he wouldn't have thought possible an hour ago.

He rested his hand on Shawn's heart, and lost himself in the rhythm. He could feel his own heartbeat matching it, aching for him to wake up. They'd only just admitted their feelings, they'd missed so much time together. He had to wake up. Carlton didn't know what he would do if he didn't.

- TBC-


	6. Chapter 6

I know this is a little short, but I just watched an amazing movie (See if anyone can figure out which one) and it inspired me to move on to the sequel right away, so I just wanted to wrap things up here. Sequel will be up shortly, hope you guys enjoy :)

Shawn woke up, head pounding against the cold cement of Thomas Hogden's basement floor. He blinked, hoping that closing his eyes for a moment would ease the pain, but not wanting to be totally unaware of what was around him. He gave up a few moments into it, realizing that he was stuck with the pain.

He tried to sit up, but as soon as he moved, the room began to spin and he fell onto his back. He cursed to himself, she had already drugged him. Not much, but enough that he wasn't about to get up and walk out.

He closed his eyes and prayed that she hadn't gone back for Lassiter after she relocated him. He was Shawn's only chance of survival at this point and for more than that reason, he hoped that she had been careless enough to leave him alive.

After a few more moments of trying to gain control of himself, Shawn gave up again. He couldn't move an inch without feeling like he was falling off of a cliff, he couldn't even crawl. All he could do was wait and hope that it wore off while he was still in good enough shape to make a run for it.

No such luck. As the drugs continued to sink in, his awareness became more and more spotty. The room was moving too quickly for him to keep up and he was slipping in an out of consciousness. Everything that happened after that was a blur at best.

Shawn could hear yelling, he felt hands on his neck. Before his body knew to gasp for air, he felt warmth overcoming him and he closed his eyes again. He felt a weight on his chest and a slap to his face before it all started over again. Sometimes, he would feel a hand caressing his face and he heard more quiet speaking, but it didn't last long before the angry yelling and pain were back.

In a brief moment of clarity, Shawn felt the room go still and quiet and a feeling in the pit of his stomach that he couldn't figure out. She choked him again, this time more hurried with no yelling to accompany it. He tried with everything he had left to pull away, with no luck.

The next thing he knew, he felt different hands on his neck. Gentle, warm hands that felt familiar and safe. He heard Carlton speaking, but he sounded so far away. All that he cared about, though, was that Lassiter had come for him, he was alive and it was all going to be okay. Then, he heard shots. Two shots and he didn't know who fired them or who was hit before he started to slip away again.

- At the Hospital -

Shawn could feel himself sleeping and dreaming sometimes, of a person he'd never met before, other times it just felt like nothingness. He had no concept of time, it felt like he had been sleeping his entire life, but he was still too tired to move. He felt on the precipice, If only someone would come and shake him awake, just that little bit would push him over the edge and he could wake up.

Then he felt pain. Nothing compared to before, it didn't even really hurt, but it was more clear than anything he remembered feeling in a long time. It resonated within him and he could feel that it was the push he needed. He tried as hard as he could to grasp the pain, to follow it up, out of the pit, and he did.

Shawn squeezed his eyes before cracking them open. "Ow…" He mumbled, trying to move to feel where the pain was coming from, but failing. His body was too weak to move that much. He settled for just squinting and scrunching his face up.

- Carlton -

Carlton turned back toward him, eyes wide. "Shawn?" When he heard the grumble, he thought it must have been his imagination again, but he turned to see the psychic's face scrunched up and he dropped everything.

He pushed the button to call the nurse and put his hand on Spencer's face. "Shawn, can you hear me?" He was desperate to make sure that this time, it was for real. Shawn had made some noises before and the first few times, he thought that he was awake, only to be let down when the nurses explained that it was normal for patients in his condition to move and make sounds in their 'sleep'.

"Shawn, please. Say something, anything." His voice shook, not ready to be disappointed again.

"…Pineapples." The psychic mumbled, hardly able to speak, only able to open his eyes just barely, but enough to see Carlton hovering above him.

The detective laughed, so overcome with emotion that he didn't know what else to do. He kissed the younger man's forehead and rubbed his cheek gently.

When the nurse walked in, she was half expecting to tell him that he had his hopes up again, but she smiled as well when she saw that Shawn actually was awake after so long. "Excuse me, Carlton. I need to check him out before the doctor gets here."

He nodded and scooted back, keeping his hand on Shawn's. "Shawn, can you hear me?"

He coughed a little before she interrupted him. "If it hurts, don't speak, just nod." He did as he was told and nodded. "I'm going to do some basic tests to see how you're doing, then you two can have a few minutes alone before the doctor comes in. Okay? Carlton, could you go get some water for when we're done here?"

He nodded again, squeezing Lassiter's hand. He groaned a little when the nurse shined the light in his eyes and it was more than a little uncomfortable to have her poking him to make sure he had feeling everywhere. He felt better the moment that Lassiter was back in the room with him, holding his hand.

"All right, so the Doctor can tell you more when he examines you, but for now you look like you're doing well. You seem to have normal feeling and reflexes over most of your body, which is one of the biggest concerns that we've had. He'll be with you soon." She smiled and left the men alone with the good news.

Carlton helped Shawn sit up with some difficulty and offered him some water, which he gladly drank before clearing his throat. "Carlton…" He looked like he wanted to say something more, but before he could, the detective was wrapping his arms around him, tears openly running down his face.

"I love you, Shawn." He blurted it out with his face buried in Shawn's shoulder. "I was so scared that I would never have the chance to tell you…" The psychic held on as tight as he could, his own few tears falling onto the other's shirt.

They held onto each other until the doctor arrived and asked Carlton to step outside. He wasn't in the hallway long before Henry and Gus showed up. He had called Shawn's father while he was out getting water. 'He's awake.' Is all that was said before he hung up and went back into the room.

"How?" Henry looked into the room and saw his son sitting up, talking to the Doctor and he couldn't believe it. "What happened?"

Lassiter shook his head, not really knowing what to say. "I just… I was shaving his neck and I slipped and nicked him a little. He just woke up and said 'ow'." He laughed again, remembering Shawn's first word being 'pineapple'.

"The nurse says that his reflexes look good, but we won't know everything for a while." Gus and Henry nodded, both speechless and ecstatic at the same time. They waited silently for the Doctor to come out.

"Hello, Henry. Gus. Well, the best news is that he's awake. That was by far the biggest obstacle, but it's not the last. There are a few tests that we need to run and once he's feeling a little stronger, he's going to need some physical therapy." The Doctor paused for a moment, smiling genuinely. "Thanks to everything that Carlton has done in the past three weeks, it's going to be much easier for him. His body is in great shape and right now I'm very optimistic. You can all go see him now."

Henry went in first, leaving the other two in the hallway to talk. "Shawn…" He smiled, not knowing what to say.

"Hey, Dad." Shawn rasped. Lassiter had helped to keep him loose over the weeks, but there was nothing that could be done to keep his voice in shape. He would have to whisper for a while.

They hugged, not needing to speak for each to know how happy they were to see each other. That wasn't something either of them would have thought to be possible, but there they were.

After Henry and Shawn exchanged their words, Gus took some time with Shawn, also by himself. They chatted for a bit, about inane things that didn't make any sense and that probably weren't really as funny as they thought. Gus knew that just getting Shawn back into the normal swing of their whimsical relationship was the best thing that he could do for his best friend. Before he left, they made a lunch date for whenever the psychic was feeling ready for a real meal.

When Lassiter got his chance to be with Shawn again, he looked much more energetic. More like how he'd remembered him. They didn't talk much, they mostly just sat, Lassiter on the edge of the bed, Shawn leaning against him, taking comfort in each other just being there. Carlton off-handedly wondered if Shawn remembered any of the things he'd said while he was unconscious.

The Doctor informed them that Shawn would be free to go home after a couple of days. With the additional tests they had to run and the physical therapy appointments they had to work out, the days went by quickly. They both agreed that it would be best if Shawn stayed with Carlton while he recovered, not only for convenience and to heal physically, but for his spirit.

Over the weeks, Gus stayed in the spare bedroom a lot, Henry brought over some amazing food and Shawn's mother even came by and insisted on talking with him about what happened. Carlton couldn't have been happier to have the company, but he appreciated the alone time they did have.

They got closer in those few weeks, closer than either of them thought possible. Even when Shawn was well enough to move back to his apartment, he decided that he didn't want to. They moved all of his things, redecorated a little, slightly to Lassiter's dismay and they lived happily ever after.

Sort of…


End file.
